


Color

by Severa



Series: Green and Gold [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, FrostIron - Freeform, M/M, Time Stone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 15:18:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2816924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severa/pseuds/Severa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world has a lot of changing to do, Tony thinks, but changing colors wasn't exactly what he had in mind. When he stands in front of the press or fights Iron Man's latest enemy, he's often reminded of what the word "vibrant" actually means. His world spins with rainbows of light and color until the crowds leave; until the man in green and black is gone.</p><p>And then the day comes when the bastard is finally caught and he asks a simple question: "What do you want of me, Stark?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AzulticSerpens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzulticSerpens/gifts).



> For the 2014 FrostIron Fest. 
> 
> Prompt: Soulmate AU where Tony is speaking to a crowd/holding a press conference and suddenly the colors get brighter and more vivid, and everything’s so much more alive because Loki’s there. But its further complicated because Tony can’t figure out exactly who set off the colors in the crowd, and its even harder when Loki’s a slippery fellow that prefers to go unnoticed.

“And now Mr. Stark has prepared a statement. He will not be taking any questions. Thank you.”

Tony Stark adjusted his tie and walked up to his designated place behind the podium. Rhodey was on his right and a sea of reporters - vultures, more like - were in front of him. They waited in anticipation, recording devices angled with care and their knuckles white around their pens. One of them was probably going to keel over under the stress of biting their tongue; Rhodey’s speech be damned, they would all be asking questions the moment they could. Tony knew this game. 

He knew exactly what they wanted to hear, too. A 'yeah, that was me' or an 'I am Iron Man' would probably suffice. They would all collectively lose their shit afterwards and it would be the story of the season. No one would be able to escape his moment in history - it would be picked over for centuries to come.

But he wasn’t going to say what they wanted to hear. All because Pepper and some Agent told him not to. 

“Been a while since I was in front of you. I figure I’ll stick to the cards this time.”

Laughter. He scanned the crowd, noting each television station and journalist.

Christine Everheart, a blonde Vanity Fair harpy by day and a contortionist by night, hadn't taken her eyes off of him since he'd come up to the podium. She was calmer than the rest of her peers, a notepad balanced on one long leg that crossed over the other. She smiled at him. He looked at the his cards and read aloud.

“There’s been speculation that I was involved in the events that occurred on the freeway and on the rooftop-”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark,” she interrupted, “but do you honestly expect us to believe that that was a bodyguard in a suit that conveniently appeared, despite that fact that you…”

Here it goes, he thought. Spinning bullshit for the press was his specialty, but he generally wasn’t one for shying away from the spotlight. The speculation was already starting. The questions were being asked. He couldn't help but wonder - who in their right mind would lie about being a real-life superhero? Why should he?

“I know that it's confusing. It is one thing to question the official story, and another thing entirely to make wild accusations or insinuate that I’m a superhero.”

The crowd gave a quiet snicker.

“I never said you were a superhero.”

“Didn’t? Well, good, because that would be outlandish and, uh, fantastic.” Fantastic was one word for it. Awesome was another, and amazing and badass and- “I’m just not the hero type. Clearly. With this laundry list of character defects, all the mistakes I’ve made, largely public-”

Rhodey leaned over to put him back on track.

“Just stick to the cards, man.”

Stick to the cards. Stick to the lie.

“Yeah, okay. Yeah. The truth is…”

Attempting to resign himself to a life of Tony Stark by day and Iron Man by night, he held Pepper’s carefully crafted cards out in front of him. He glanced up one more time to steel himself for the reaction. Disappointment, disbelief, protests and outrage. Who would yell at him first?

Someone slipped in through the door at the back of the room. Tony raised a brow - why was security letting people in late? - and then the newcomer turned his gaze forward. Their eyes met.

Tony’s mind went abruptly blank. Everything screeched to a jarring halt and for one heart-racing second, he couldn’t form a proper thought.

When his brain reset, his first thought was green.

He had green eyes and a green-gold scarf, matched with a pendant that hung low on his chest. It gleamed gold like Christine’s hair, and his complexion was like her’s too - pale, unmarked, and nearly as white as his shirt. The black suit he wore contrasted sharply against his skin and his hair had the same effect in framing his face. It was slicked back, shining black against the harsh fluorescents.

The sea of reporters between them became painfully vivid. Every blue and grey was a different, unique shade. Every black was as deep as the nighttime ocean. White was blinding; camera flashes fragmented into rainbows. The cards Tony held in front of himself were a calming shade of blue against the chaos.

Tony blinked, but the world didn’t right. Something made his fingertips buzz. Green cut through his reality with merciless precision. A warmth collected behind the arc reactor. He felt alive, he felt light, like the suit was carrying him thousands of feet into the sky.

In that moment of color and life, he made a decision. Whether it was reckless or completely calculated, no one would ever be completely certain. Whatever it was, it was undeniably classic Tony Stark.

“I am Iron Man.”

The crowd erupted.

The man in green and black smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

In the aftermath of the "I am Iron Man" speech, Tony's life had become a series of consequences. 

One was the talking-to he had gotten from Pepper and Agent Agent, but Rhodey’s two-cents had made that lecture worthwhile.

_“I told ya’ll it wouldn’t work. You really thought he was going to keep his damn mouth shut when people want to call him a superhero? C’mon.”_

The next was Tony's self-imposed isolation. He had disappeared into his lab with a passion that he had never given to weapon making. His free time (and scheduled time) was spent engrossed in building new Iron Man suits. He refused to make a habit out of  these life-or-death situations that were following him around, and the way to stop them was to stay one step ahead. It wasn't paranoia - _it's called preparedness, JARVIS, so stop harping on me_ \- and nothing anyone could say would change his mind. He was too busy tackling the suit’s portability problem to care about comments from the peanut gallery. When Tony wasn’t Iron Man, the suit was just two immovable ton’s worth of pain in the ass.

Nay-sayers be damned, he was going to make a suit that folded into a briefcase.

Elbow-deep in the Mark V prototype, he heard his own voice broadcast on the television: _“I am Iron Man.”_

“Mute.”

The ambiance of machinery continued. Tony withdrew his hands from the suit and toweled off the sweat on his brow. He rolled back in his chair to look at his handiwork, rubbing at his neck as he thought.

The Mark V was an impressive display of multi-colored wires and shining metal. It was a vibrant testament to his genius.

He stared at a series of green insulated wires and sighed, leaning forward and putting his head in his hands.

Everything looked dull compared to how it had been when he’d been standing at that podium. Nothing he could do with wires and engineering could stand up to it; nothing could be as vivid as that moment in time. His first thought was that the color show had been sparked by that asshole in green, but how? Color perception didn’t change through coincidental eye contact.

A bad trip might have explained it, sure, but the painkillers hadn't been that strong.

The whole situation gave off a weird connection-on-first-sight vibe that he didn’t like at all.

Worse was that he found it so fascinating.

And it never hurt to do a little bit of research, did it?

Eight hours, two SHIELD-bound viruses, and four cups of coffee later, JARVIS had pulled up some persons of interest files for Tony’s viewing pleasure.

“Well, would you look at that.”

* * *

_“Blood toxicity is at two percent, Sir.”_

Shit.

* * *

While JARVIS synthesized elements that might be a suitable replacement for the palladium arc reactor core, Tony delved deeper into his research on his mystery man. No media outlets had employment records of him anywhere, public or private, so the reporter angle was shot. SHIELD’s file, while curious, lacked any useful information.

 _Name: Unknown.  
Age: Unknown._  
_Eyes: Green._  
_Hair: Black._  
_Race: Unknown._  
_Origin: Unknown._  
_Threat Level: 1._

JARVIS warned him about getting obsessed.

Tony finished work on the Mark V to appease him, though not without questioning why he was appeasing his A.I. in the first place.

* * *

The government wanted to take his suits, claiming some bullshit about national security, and now Tony was being forced to sit through a congressional hearing. He leaned back in his chair in the courtroom and twirled a pen through his fingers.

If they thought that he would play nice for the cameras, they were dead wrong.

While Justin Hammer talked nonsense to a board of crusty old senators, Pepper caught Tony’s attention. She pointed out Agent Agent and Tony waved, but he took her hands before she could leave him.

“Ben’s Chilibowl. Hot dogs for the ride home.”

Because that was what mattered right now. Hot dogs.

Pepper took the request in stride. “Chili on the dog or on the side?”

“It doesn’t matter. Get everything, get tons of stuff.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

In the split second he took to watch her go (and he loved to watch her go), Tony scanned his eyes over the crowd. There were numerous old men in suits and ties in attendance, as well as plenty of reporters. Agent Agent whispered with Pepper in the back while cameras pointed to Tony.

He half expected his mystery man to be in the peanut gallery, but had no such luck.

The hearing ended with a one-liner that would be the highlight of the internet for the rest of the month:

“One thing that I’ve proven is that you can count on me to pleasure myself.”

The crowd was clapping and cheering and roaring, just like he wanted. The Agent rolled his eyes at him as he passed by and Tony flashed him a smile, all while shaking hands without knowing who they belonged to.

It was just as security ushered him out the door that Tony saw who he had been looking for.

His mystery man was hanging back along the final row, standing like an Armani-clad statue, eyes forever on him. He was smiling as if he found something funny, but Tony didn’t have much time to think about that before the world went ultra-saturate again. He jammed his sunglasses back onto his face out of instinct, dampening the intensity of his world and dulling it to muted amber.

In the time it took him to do that, the green bastard was gone.

Goddamn slippery son of a bitch.

* * *

Armani started appearing more often than not after the hearing. Tony realized this all in hindsight; he wasn’t exactly looking for him in the crowd when Vanko attacked in Monaco, and his attention had been elsewhere during Stark Expo’s explosive end. But JARVIS had collected a plethora of information on the man for him to review after every fight and appearance. There were times that Tony managed to pick him out of a crowd himself, but the bastard always darted out of sight moments after.

Then Agent Agent arrived at Stark Tower one night -  _Phil? His first name is Agent._ \- and rocked Tony’s world with the Avengers Initiative. Not that he hadn’t already refused to be in and then tried to join that particular crew-to-be, but an invitation to join a scrapped project was surprising.

Presented with a packet on multiple worlds, super soldiers, assassins, and green rage monsters, Tony was more than a little intrigued. He suited up to join the party the next morning.

He had been on the helicarrier when Agent Romanoff and Captain America - in the goddamn flesh - had returned from Germany with two assholes claiming to be Gods. Tony had missed the party, busy with making himself at home (read: planting bugs), so Phil gave him the quick run down. Thor was the friendly one, Loki not so much; the latter had been escorted to the holding bay for questioning. Apparently he was dangerous enough that he warranted a stay in the Hulk Tank.

When the team recruits gathered on the control deck for introductions, Tony busied himself with calling out a security employee for playing Galaga and then critiqued the helicarrier’s design choices. Banner seemed amused, Romanoff tolerated him, and Cap' was staring at him. Tony tried not to think about Howard while the meeting progressed.

Everyone went their separate ways when the party was over. Banner went to go start tracking the cube, Agent Hill supervised her grunts, and Rogers stepped aside with Fury. Thor stood near Romanoff, staring down at the security footage projected on the glass table. Phil came over to stand with Tony.

“I thought you might be interested.” he said, quiet enough to keep it private, “After the eye you’ve had on him.”

Tony’s brow furrowed. Phil gestured to the footage Thor and Romanoff focused on.

When he went in to sneak a glance, the world felt a little colder.

Tony dug out a pair of sunglasses from his jacket pocket and put them on.

“Can’t say I know what you’re talking about, Agent.”

And then he clapped his hand on Agent Romanoff’s shoulder, giving her a reassuring shake she didn’t need.

“Nice to see you again, Natalie. Let's talk.”


	3. Chapter 3

Tony knew that Natasha wasn’t supposed to go in and talk to Loki. His little bugs in SHIELD’s system had given him a brief overview of her sparse file, which had revealed her Fury-imposed restrictions to everything green and godly. Loki was too close to Agent Barton. _She_ was too close to Barton.

Tony, on the other hand, didn’t have those restrictions. He didn't give two damns about SHIELD's favorite archer. He wanted him back, sure, but not beyond the scope of the mission. No one had any expectations for him to go above and beyond for anyone here. 

He flipped his keycard between his fingers. They stood outside the door to the Hulk Tank’s hanger as Natasha leaned against the wall opposite him.

“Why would he have a reason to follow you?”

Tony shrugged.

“Isn’t that what we’re trying to figure out?”

As Natalie Rushman, Natasha hadn’t been oblivious to Tony’s stalker. But the man hadn’t made himself a problem at the time, and she had been distracted with more important things. Namely, keeping Tony alive. Palladium poisoning wasn't a joke. 

“And if he’s manipulating you? Those appearances could have been calculated. Maybe he planned this.”

Tony shrugged. “Then manipulate him back. Isn’t that what you do?”

She turned to the window, where a hint of the prison could be seen below flights of metal stairs and machinery. Her expression was perfectly composed. There wasn't an eyelash out of place or a hair that dared to go astray. Even makeup was afraid to cross Agent Romanoff.

“You’re not telling me everything.”

“Nope.” He slid his keycard through the sensor and the lock released. “Just a little payback, right?”

She rolled her eyes at him.

“This isn’t going to work.”

“Yes it is, Rushman.” Tony said. “And if it doesn’t, we didn’t lose anything.”

In the time it took her to sigh, she was gone. The door slid shut behind her and Tony pulled out his phone, tapping away until SHIELD’s security feeds were compromised. His best guess said that Mr. Galaga wouldn’t notice anything in the next half-hour. Looped feeds were rudimentary, but effective in a cinch.

Tony got the real feed running on his phone after he was sure his sunglasses were firmly in place.

“ _...After whatever tortures Fury can concoct, you would appear as a friend. As a balm. And I would cooperate.”_

Torture was a nasty thing. Tony scratched at the seam of his arc reactor, peering through the door’s glass down to the obscured scene below. Green and red shifted beneath the layers of metal stairs.

“ _I want to know what you’ve done to Agent Barton.”_

“ _I’d say I’ve expanded his mind.”_

Smartass.

“ _And once you’ve won, once you’re king of the mountain, what happens to his mind?”_

It was then that Tony got the distinct feeling that the only reason Agent Romanoff did anything with SHIELD was because Clint Barton had asked her to. Her loyalty was with him, not with them.

“ _Is this love, Agent Romanoff?”_

Well, at least he and Loki were on the same page.

“ _Love is for children. I owe him a debt.”_

“ _Tell me.”_

Tony tucked his phone into his pocket and slid his keycard again. Stepping into the holding bay, he made sure to keep his footfalls quiet as he descended the stairs. Both assassin and God were too busy in conversation to pay him any mind.

“...He made a different call.” Natasha was saying.

“And what will you do if I vow to spare him?”

“Not let you out.”

“I know, but I like this.” He smiled, leaning forward. “Your world in the balance, and you bargain for one man?”

“Regimes fall every day. I tend not to weep over that; I’m Russian. Or, I was.”

Looked like Tony was right about Natasha’s loyalties.

“And what are you now?” Loki asked, curious.

“Does it matter?” Tony cut in, hopping down the last few steps. His footsteps reverberated in the small space. Loki’s eyes narrowed as he straightened up, his gaze remaining on Natasha despite the interruption. Tony could see a million thoughts flickering in those green depths. “Oh, but where are my manners? Name's Tony Stark. This is my sidekick." He gave his best billionaire smile. "We’re here to make a deal.”

That warranted his attention. But the recoil was almost immediate; Loki made eye contact and immediately turned his head away, taking in a sharp breath like someone had dumped ice water over him. Natasha stood from her seat as Tony made his way to the glass door, folding his arms over his chest.

“Oh, please tell me you’re getting all this colors of the wind bullshit, too.”

It was worse now that they were so close together. When Loki had been a nameless reporter in the back of the room there had always been a sea of people between them. Tony hadn’t really been paying attention when he’d been a bystander to his battles. But now, face-to-face, the colors were searing. It only added insult to injury when pain bloomed in his chest, burning like the arc reactor had sparked against his heart. He did his best not to cringe as the heat festered. Talk about heartburn.

There was silence as Loki gathered himself, a hand hovering over his face as his shoulders hunched forward.

Quiet, dry laughter echoed in the Hulk Tank as Loki straightened himself and stood. He didn't shy away from eye contact now. He met Tony's gaze with a wry smile and approached. There was clearly nothing between them, but there was  _something_ hanging in the empty air, entirely imagined and impossible to explain. It pulled at the strings of Tony's anxiety. Drew him nearer, even. Loki cleared the distance between them and stopped short only a breath away from the glass.

“At long last.” His eyes swept over Tony, from from head to toe. “We meet again.”

“Uh, Again?” Tony's eyebrows shot up, amused and disturbed all at once. “I don’t think you’ve ever properly introduced yourself, ‘cept for, y’know, stalking me.”

Loki’s face turned skeptical, some glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. For a moment it seemed they had both forgotten about all this Tesseract nonsense.

“Stalking?”

Tony pulled out his phone, projecting images on the glass. He flicked through each candid shot of Loki at various Stark Industries events and press conferences. There was a particularly good one of him standing in a crowd as everyone else ran away from danger. The God’s eyes followed one image to the next, his lips curled into a thin smile.

“I see.” He turned his attention away from the slideshow, looking at Tony instead. “...Then let us begin. What do you want of me, Anthony Stark?”

Somehow, those words seemed heavy with deeper meaning.

“Tony.” He corrected. Brushing away any feelings of foreboding, he took Natasha’s chair, spun it a full one-eighty, and sat in it backwards. “Or Mr. Stark, _People's_ 'Sexiest Man Alive' twice-running, maybe Your Majesty. Take your pick.”

“Hm.” Loki sat back down as well, his full attention on the odd duo before him. “You’re hardly majestic.”

Tony splayed a hand over his heart. “You wound me.”

“If I had, there would be far more blood.”

He barked out a laugh as he rubbed his eyes, careful to put the sunglasses back in place.

“All right, you crazy asshole. I want answers. She wants her partner back.”

“I’m inclined to give you neither.” Loki’s smile was almost diplomatic.

“Well, I hear your allies gave you an army. Some creepy alien shit. But you-” he pointed at Loki for emphasis. “-don’t want the cube. They do.”

“And for it, I will be given this world.”

“Maybe. _Maybe_ you’ll win, and _maybe_ you’ll get your fifteen minutes. But there’s no throne here. Never was, never will be.”

Natasha folded her arms, standing at Tony’s side. “Regimes fall. Worlds don’t.”

Loki watched them both, folding his hands in his lap. His eyes moved between Natasha and Tony before he issued a challenge with a voice of silk and a clever grin.

“Persuade me.”

Persuasion didn’t last long. Clint Barton decided to blow one of the helicarrier’s engines to kingdom come and their unauthorized chat with Loki ended in a little bit of code red and a lot of code green.

“It seems your monster has been unleashed.” Loki’s voice was masked. He took care to examine his nails. “You’ve run out of time to bargain with me.”

“Don’t know about that.” Tony tried to fight away the urge to run to his suit.

Loki smirked, standing. He folded his hands behind his back, leveling his gaze on Natasha.

“These forces are led by your precious Agent Barton, Agent Romanov.” He reminded with ease. “Perhaps your attentions are best directed elsewhere.”

She stood like a statue. If she wanted to run off to go save him, it didn't show. Tony waved her off.

“I’ll be fine with green-and-crazy, here. Go.”

Her questioning gaze said she thought otherwise, so he insisted again.

“Go, Nat’.”

Tony stood, pushing his chair aside. Natasha didn’t need to be pressed again. She was out the door and down the hall by the time Tony reached the hanger controls. The helicarrier rocked with a tremor.

“The war has already started, Stark.” Loki said, watching him. “No matter who you are, there is little that will sway my loyalties.”

“You want an army, huh?” Tony tapped the screen and the floor opened below Loki, letting the wind rush up to meet them. His hair was whipped into an impressive mess in seconds. “Tell you what, shortcake. I’ll give you something better than army to fight off these bastards once you double cross them.”

Loki gave the open air below him a cautious glance before answering.

“Oh? And why would I-”

Tony held up a hand. “I’m not done. You’ll double-cross them, you’ll hand over the Tesseract, and you’ll give me back Barton. Selvig, too. _Alive._ ”

Loki’s patience thinned. His eyes narrowed.

“You’ve yet to earn my loyalty.”

“Politics.” Tony dismissed. “You’ll do it because if you don’t, you’re going to end up in a cell. Or dead. And you can’t exactly take over Asgard from either of those places, can you?”

Loki’s eyes widened fractionally.

“I told you, there’s no throne here.” Tony added, just for emphasis. "Thor helped us fill in your file."

There was silence for a long moment and then the helicarrier was rocked with another explosion. The Hulk roared in the distance.

“ _Stark!”_ Steve’s voice followed over the intercoms, worried and angry all at once. “ _What are you doing?!”_

“Three seconds, big guy.” Tony decided, flipping open the plastic cover on the red drop button. “Three.”

Loki expression moved from curious to calculating.

“Two.”

“ _Stark?!”_ Nick Fury’s voice echoed out this time. “ _What do you think you are doing?! Don’t even- God dammit, Coulson, get down there. Hill, restrict his access, lock down the hangers- I want him in his suit-!”_

“Free me and I’ll consider your bargain.” Loki interrupted.

Tony made a face. “Consideration ain’t going to cut it.”

“It’s all I’m prepared to give.”

Red lights started flashing and the hanger doors began to close as overrides took effect. They were running out of time. It was the perfect opportunity to make a reckless decision.

“Then this is all I’m prepared to give, you slippery son of a bitch.”

He promptly pressed the big red button of doom and the Hulk Tank detached. Loki dropped out of the sky like a brick, gone from Tony’s life as quickly as he had arrived.

"See you around, asshole.”


	4. Chapter 4

That was how it always started.

_What do you want of me?_

Clint Barton hauled Loki out of the ocean, delivering his master to the safety of their stolen quinjet. The Hulk's prison sunk like a stone beneath them, dragged down to Jörmungandr's depths as his enemy’s flying fortress burned the skies above. It held steady despite the damage his team had wrought, if only for the mercy that they had abandoned it to fish their leader from the sea.

Forcing himself into a seat, Loki found some comfort in the fact that the colors of this world were returning to their muted hues. The tell-tale pulse of magic within his chest remained, however; warmth festered there beneath the ice in his heart, and he was loathe to recognize it.

“Sir.” Agent Barton handed him a hand towel to dry his face. “What’s our next move?”

He had given his word to consider Stark’s bargain, but not to take it. With his men awaiting orders, Loki was quick to weigh his options.

The Mad Titan offered an army and a world in exchange for a cube. Thanos offered an easy revenge.

Tony Stark bargained information and peace for a universe’s worth in possibilities. He offered a chance at freedom where Loki would hail to no man’s whim. And if history had told him anything, Loki knew that Stark could offer him so much more than that.

“Recall the cube. There’s been a change of plan.”

If Stark knew the influence he held over Loki, surely he would have taken better advantage of it.


	5. Chapter 5

Whatever Tony’s spur of the moment plan had been - and he wasn’t sure he even knew what it was - it seemed to have worked. Loki went silent after the incident on the helicarrier, and the Tesseract went dark with him.

The war he had promised never came.

Tony was officially cut from the team, as per the Loki incident. “Consultant basis only” was underlined, bolded, and written in all caps on his file. But it came to pass that the Avenger’s Initiative wasn’t needed, Iron Man or not. That left a number of its recruits stranded - shit out of luck, so to speak, with some more deep in it than others.

Thor was stranded on Earth because Loki had blown something called the Bifröst to bits. Good old All-Father Odin apparently sucked at booking intergalactic flights; without the Tesseract, Thor had been shafted with a one way ticket to Earth. SHIELD had been good enough to offer up a bunker until Jane Foster was retrieved from a mysterious observatory, but Thor didn’t take to the offer as graciously as he could have. He didn’t want Jane coming back anytime soon, as he feared Loki would return once they were lulled into a false sense of security.

Tony had smiled and offered him a place at the Stark Tower instead.

“I’ll clear out a few rooms for you and your biceps. No one’ll bother you, the food’s a million times better, and I’ll install a few extra lighting rods for shits and giggles.”

Thor had smiled, clapped him on the shoulder like an old friend, and gratefully accepted. It had put Bruce’s reserved thank you to shame.

Natasha stayed with SHIELD. Steve got comfy in an apartment that the government paid for.

An impressive two weeks passed before Tony woke up to find Natasha asleep on his couch. Steve followed suit on week three.

Tony decided not to say a damn thing about it. The remodeling teams were put to work on new floors for his friends.

In the months that followed, Bruce spent his time in the lab attempting to re-locate the Tesseract. Natasha and Steve became a unified unit in trying to track down Barton and Selvig, with the occasional helping hand from Thor. In whatever free time they found, Tony built a few new suits and the team took jobs that trickled down from SHIELD. Emergency situations, mostly - hostages, robberies, that sort of thing. 

Life got suspiciously quiet.

Tony was just waiting for the bomb to drop and blow it all to shit.

Half a year later, Erik Selvig showed up on the Tower's doorstep and SHIELD lost its fucking mind. He had a silver briefcase in hand and hair that would make Einstein proud, but the only one who seemed to appreciate that was Tony. SHIELD was too busy sending out specialized teams and shiny armored vehicles to care about anyone's welfare; they had the Tower surrounded in minutes.

Thor stirred up a storm the likes that New York had never seen and Tony put the tower on lockdown.

When Selvig was settled and the chaos calmed down, Tony took the time to examine the briefcase. He found exactly what he was expecting (dreading?) inside, plus a little bit more.

The Tesseract rested innocently within as it pulsed a calming blue. Careless and curious, he removed it from its padded home and examined it, holding it up to the light and turning it every which way. His fingers buzzed on contact and warmth started to seep into his veins.

That was when he noticed the scrap of paper that had been hidden beneath the cube, waiting to be found. Placing the Tesseract on the workshop table and shooing DUM-E’s curious claw aside, he plucked the parchment up and unfolded it.

On it a set of coordinates were inscribed in an elegant hand, followed by a simple message:

_Leave the suit. Bring the widow._

Tony’s gaze flicked up as he crumpled the note in his hands.

Natasha was already standing in the doorway, waiting for him.

* * *

Like hell he wasn’t going to bring the suit. Tony was reckless, but he wasn’t stupid. Walking into enemy territory without any protection? Yeah, not happening.

The coordinates led them down into the underground of New York, forcing them to map through the maze of used and unused subway routes. If he had left the Iron Man suit behind, they would have made a rather inconspicuous duo; however, being that he _had_ brought the suit, he attracted wondering eyes and flashing cameras. Natasha was largely ignored. No one questioned what they were doing or attempted to stop them, which was one upside, but Tony knew there would probably be some interesting headlines the following morning.

Long after they left the crowded platforms, it became clear that the request to leave the suit behind was more for practicality’s sake than anything else. It just happened that the entrance to this secret lair was entirely too small for Iron Man to fit through. Spacious railways and abandoned platforms quickly turned into a series of narrow hallways and small passages, until finally, Tony was forced to step out of the suit and leave it behind.

He did take one of the gauntlets with him, however, both out of spite and for a need to protect himself.

The very last passage they took ended in a dark series of tunnels, where remnants of a makeshift headquarters remained. Whatever had once been here was abandoned. Empty tables stood out of place, useless papers lay scattered over concrete, and gutted road cases had been left behind to collect dust. Only a few lights still flickered with power, the rest left lifeless or broken.

“Three levels of led-lined flooring, at least.” Natasha muttered, looking up. “Perfect place to hide the Tesseract.”

“Perfect place to hide anything.” The repulsor in his glove whined as it powered up, offering a little bit of light. Tony frowned. Combined with the dim light in his chest, a wash of blue illuminated their surroundings. “Where are they?”

“Long gone.” She guessed.

There was a chuckle from behind them, forcing both to spin on heel and turn.

“Not quite.”

Loki stood with his hands folded in the small of his back, watching them both with reserved interest. Tony blinked and the green and golds became more vibrant in the dim lighting, but it was manageable enough.

“I see you got my message.” Green eyes wandered down the Iron Man gauntlet on Tony’s hand. “And only partially fulfilled it. It seems we’ve started a trend.”

“Where’s Barton?” Natasha cut in, beautifully to-the-point. “That was the deal.”

Loki leveled his gaze on her, the image of cool and calm. “I recall. I was promised ‘something better than an army’ - your words, Stark - in exchange for the cube and your…” He searched for an appropriate word. “...friends.”

“Then deliver on it.”

“Am I to assume that my prize is mere freedom from your grasp?”

“Why not?” Tony asked, shrugging. “Captivity ain’t great, kiddo. Believe me.”

Loki hummed, unimpressed. His eyes flashed to Tony and then back to Natasha.

“Agent Barton is currently recovering from the scepter’s influence.” He gestured down the tunnel. “He may appreciate a familiar face upon his awakening. You can find him down the hall. Take the first left.”

Natasha and Tony shared a look. He tapped the communicator lodged in his ear - he would be fine on his own, but stay in contact. 

She lingered only momentarily before proceeding down the hall. Tony was left alone with Loki.

“I have made good on my half of this bargain, Stark.” He paced toward a table, and Tony followed suit. “What have you to offer that bests the army I abandoned?”

“Well, me.” When Loki arched a skeptical brow, Tony flashed him a grin. “And your demi-god brother, a super soldier, a man with breathtaking anger management issues-"

“You offer yourself and your comrades to me?”

“No. Think team-for-hire. Temporarily." He ran his hand through his hair. "We’re better than an army.”

Loki’s lips moved in minor amusement. “And humble, I see. But you may be right.”

Tony nodded and leaned against the table. He positioned himself opposite his uneasy ally, still a little uncomfortable with their proximity. His vision showed no signs of dulling. There was distinct urge bubbling up inside him to touch, to feel-

“You’ve got things to answer for, though.” He said, ignoring his thoughts and letting the humor slide from his expression. “Why have you been following me? Is this some big plot, a giant scheme? What’s with the colors, why-”

“Were I to tell you what I know, you would not believe me.” Loki answered simply, cutting him off.

“Try me. I got all day.”

“You would be wise to fear me, not mine me for information.”

“Maybe. But I have to know why you started dicking around in our lives to begin with.”

A muscle in Loki’s jaw worked as he considered this request. Tony watched as his fingers worried with a small stone on the table. When or where he had acquired the thing (or if it had been there all along) Tony didn’t know, but it was worn and weathered.

“...There are connections that transcend the limits of time.” Loki chose his words with care, eyes downcast on the rune beneath his fingers. He lifted it off the table. “The realms are connected by the branches of Yggdrasil, and magic is drawn from its energy. With the proper hand it can be threaded between two points.”

He let the stone fall from his fingers, where it rolled between them like a die cast. Then there was a flash of metal in his hand and Tony jolted, preparing for the worst. The repulsor whined as it powered up.

“Whatever fate has in store for us, I do not know.”

The dagger glinted once against the dim light before blood spilled and Tony barked in pain. But he wasn't bleeding - Loki was. He plucked the rune into his bleeding grasp, fisting away the fresh cut in his palm. Tony let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. The repulsor powered down.

“Think of me as your ally, Stark.” Easing open his hand, he rolled the bloody rune between his fingers. “Never give me a reason to end you and you will live a long life.”

Green fire danced over his hand and the blood burned away, leaving only a clean stone behind. 

“If you have need of me.” He offered. “This blood magic. Dark magic. Tend to it with care.”

Loki held the rune out between them, palm up and unblemished. Tony stared.

"A rock?"

"A rune."

Tony was a genius, but he was floundering here. This was way outside of his realm of expertise. Magic and runes? Gods and fate? He felt like he was trapped in a fantasy novel, and a shitty one at that.

“I thought I was the one offering services.”

“'Tis mere courtesy, I assure you. When I've need for _you_ , you will know."

Silence stretched as Tony considered this offer.

“All right, Rock of Ages.” He plucked the stone from Loki’s palm, examining it. Ancient was definitely one word to describe it. “But that still doesn’t explain-”

He looked up to see that Loki was simply gone, leaving him alone in the tunnels without so much as a goodbye.

“God _dammit._ ”


	6. Chapter 6

Loki had need of him one month later, after Thor had gone home with the Tesseract and the world had been pleasantly not-alien for a while.

He had shown up in the middle of the goddamn night, setting off all of JARVIS’ security alarms and shutting Tony’s floor of the tower down. Tony had thrown himself out of bed and into the nearest pair of pants, activating the Mark VII as he stumbled into the penthouse living room.

When the bright flashes of green and gold hit his senses, he groaned and covered his eyes.

“Already?”

Loki chuckled from behind the bar, pouring himself a drink. He was dressed in his signature regalia, though he lacked the horned helm.

“I come bearing only a warning, Stark.” He assured him, as if that was supposed to be a comfort. “Your beloved SHIELD has been infiltrated. How is Agent Barton?”

“What?” Tony rubbed his eyes, moving to the bar and stealing Loki’s drink. Unfazed, the God merely poured himself another, but his eyes rested on the arc reactor. Shirtless, Tony remembered. Yeah, right. “Clint’s fine, wants to put an arrow between your eyes - SHIELD’s been what now?”

“Infiltrated.” Loki responded, casual. “For some time now, as I’ve been told.”

“And who is telling you this?”

Loki hummed, shaking his head. He took a drink.

“Okay, then why are you telling me this?” Tony tried.

“Because if the good Captain is compromised, you cannot deliver on your half of the bargain.”

Tony's train of thought was interrupted by JARVIS issuing a warning throughout the tower. It was a good thing the Mark VII had been powering up; there was a squadron of airborne enemies coming directly his way.

“And who is _that_?” He pointed an accusatory finger towards the window, where pinpoints of light were fast-moving in the sky.

Loki simply smiled. “Why, the people who told me.”

In the end, Tony learned the hard way that Hydra had infiltrated SHIELD.

Great. Good. Wonderful.

Now he sported a concussion and there was a man with a metal arm strapped down in the workshop, sedated within an inch of his life and suffering a bad case of frostbite. Loki had played ice queen with an ancient blue box, his skin had turned blue, and then he had promptly disappeared. Captain America was pacing like a worried wife outside the workshop and Thor was brooding on the roof, having been a little late to the game.

Everyone was an asshole, Tony decided. He groaned as he went downstairs.

* * *

A charity banquet gone wrong had landed him in some warehouse cuffed to a pole - “ _This is a normal Saturday night for me, really, guys. Get more creative.”_ \- and sporting a plethora of new bruises. He was without his suit and at the mercy of neo-Nazis, but his heart rate was surprisingly low. If Steve wasn’t already on his way, Thor would be announcing himself via thunderstorm any minute now. Hydra hadn't learned their lesson, yet. Baiting Steve was generally a bad idea. Maybe they were hoping their Winter Soldier would tag along as well.

Still, Steve seemed to be taking his damn time while the guards played punch the billionaire. Tony had started counting -  _fourteen, fifteen -_ and was trying to decide how he was going to make Steve pay him back for every punch he took. Not everyone was a super soldier, for Christ's sake. He'd be feeling this for weeks. 

It was only when the beating was interrupted that Tony thought to be worried.

“Steve Rogers has been apprehended, sir.”

His heart jumped to his throat as Hydra minions celebrated around him.

"Do you hear that, Stark?” Their commanding officer asked, sickeningly smug. "Your Captain isn’t coming to save you.”

Tony spit blood in the man’s face just to be a spiteful little asshole.

 _Twenty-one - ow, fuck! - twenty-four.._.

When the two grunts pulled away from him, knuckles bloody and smirks on their faces, a smaller man approached. He seemed the brains type, probably paired with the two brutes to provide some guidance for the brawn.

“Best we see what we can get from him.”

The man shoved his hands in Tony’s pockets to scavenge. He twisted to get away, but it didn't help much.

"Oh! Wow, buy me dinner first."

There wasn't much to steal. His phone - locked, encrypted, and with a secret self destruct capability they’d probably find out about later - and his wallet didn’t really matter to him. The communicator they fished out of his ear was worthless, his security keycards were probably deactivated by now, and there was a mass of crumpled receipts to top off their pile of his possessions.

The only thing they acquired that gave him any pause was the odd little stone he had taken to carrying around.

Loki’s rune.

“Wouldn’t touch that if I were you.” Tony warned.

Loki hadn't explained _how_ the little thing worked and JARVIS' scans indicated that it was just a stone with strange energy readings, but the words 'blood magic' had been used. All he could think of was the two brutes withblood on their hands. This couldn't end well.

“Perthro.” The smart one said, rolling it over in his fingers while the other two looked at him like he was mad. “A rune of fate.”

“Let me see.” Grunted one of the idiots.

“ _Really_ wouldn’t touch that, if I were-”

Too late. Tony wasn't sure what to expect - maybe an explosion or a burst of light - but he tensed up like a bomb was about to go off. 

Nothing happened. Slowly, Tony opened his eyes to see the four men staring at him like he’d grown another head.

“Scared, Stark?” The big idiot laughed, tossing the rune up and down in his hands. “Gift from Thor? Doesn't do mu-”

Then, every single light went out. There was the immediate bark of his captors demanding what had happened, but then the lights flickered back on.

To Tony, everything was much too colorful, and that just spelled trouble.

“Well, it looks like you’ve gotten yourself into quite the predicament.”

Loki emerged from a corner of shadows, his hands folded in the small of his back. The Hydra thugs immediately spun around and raised their guns - even the small one - but Loki just shook his head. His eyes gleamed with murder.

“Run for it, guys.”

Tony’s warning fell on deaf ears. Once the first shot rang out, it was all over.

Loki was covered in blood by the time he made his way to Tony.

“That was kind of hot, in a weird way.” Tony only half-joked as he made his way around him. His skin tingled as Loki’s hand brushed over his arms. “Come here often?”

“Flattery does you no favors. How is it that you managed to be apprehended by the likes of these?” Loki ignored him as he cut his binds. Tony staggered free and rubbed at his wrists.

“They pack more of a punch in big numbers, trust me. Did you just, uh, cut metal with a dagger? Nevermind, don't answer, just give it to me.”

Loki did not look like he was going to hand over his daggers any time soon.

“Where is your armor?”

“At home.”

“It does you little good there.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Tony snapped. “They caught me off guard - sue me. Now they say they’ve got Steve somewhere, and I’ve got no idea where they hell your big brother is and-”

“What do you want of me, Stark?” Loki asked simply, wiping the blood off his weapons. “My assistance in saving your teammate?”

Tony paused, taken off guard. Gods of Mischief were for hire now? Thor would be jumping for joy, no doubt, but all Tony could wonder on was what this would cost him.

“I… uh, yeah. That would be great.”

“Follow me.”

And that was that. An hour later,Steve and Tony were both home free, having been escorted out of Hydra’s facilities moments before Loki had blown it halfway to Asgard.

Bucky hadn’t been very happy with them when he’d climbed out of the rubble afterwards.

* * *

“You know, I’m tired of wearing sunglasses indoors.” Tony complained, sitting down at his workshop table. Loki paced the perimeter, examining Iron Man’s workshop. “I’m starting to think you just like fucking with me.”

Loki spared him a glance before turning his attention to DUM-E, who had just wheeled up to him.

“Poor choice of words.”

Tony couldn’t help smirking. A lesser man might have shied at that, but he wasn’t easy to blush. “You probably would. Most do.”

“As I’ve said before, your modesty is astonishing.” Loki touched DUM-E’s claw; the robot chirped and sped away. Tony snorted as he ran himself into the side of a table. “Be content in our alliance. I’ve told you that before.”

“You also give me creepy magic blood stones. I asked Thor if we were married now, but he said engagements on Asgard don’t involve forbidden magic.”

Loki’s attention snapped to him, matched with a glare that was as sharp as his tongue. “You told him?”

“He also says you don’t normally drink with… well, anyone.” Tony shrugged off the glare, pouring some drinks and taking off his sunglasses. He blinked once or twice, then told JARVIS to turn the lights down a bit. It made everything slightly less blinding. “If you ask me, he’s jealous.”

His resident God of Mischief did not seem amused in the slightest, but he did approach to take the glass presented to him. As he brushed by, Tony thought he smelled like rain and smoke. Was it normal for people to smell like the weather?

“Sharing a drink with someone is considered a sign of camaraderie in Asgard.”

Tony’s brow dipped in in curiosity.

“We’re friends now?”

“Once.” Loki answered shortly, taking a drink. “We are allies, now.”

“Once. Once this, once that. I don’t remember knowing you before Cap’ snatched you up in Stuttgart.”

“You wouldn't.”

Loki was as cryptic as someone from myths and legends should be, Tony thought. It was annoying.

“I've said it before. If I am not your enemy, I am your greatest asset.” Loki leaned forward on the table, cradling his glass between long fingers. He seemed to be considering something. “Humor my curiosity and I will humor yours.”

“Your curiosity?” Tony parroted, skeptical. Loki nodded.

“Yes.” He extended his hand out between them, allowing his fingers to fall on the ridges of the arc reactor. “What is this?”

Tony pulled back almost immediately, leaving Loki’s hand hovering in the empty air. It was more instinct than anything, but the bolt of electricity that his touch had sent through his body hadn’t helped.

“Woah, buddy.” Tony gave a little smile, uneasy. He straightened his shirt. “Invading personal space, much?”

“They say it keeps you alive.” Damn, he was persistent.

Tony swallowed. He straightened at the shoulders in some attempt to make himself feel better.

“It’s a miniaturized arc reactor - a magnet on speed, with a whole lot of energy to pack a punch with.”

Loki eyes remained on the faint glow of the reactor as he set his glass down and slid around the table.

“A magnet, so close to one’s heart?” He wondered, and again his cool hands found his chest. Heat sparked around the reactor and Tony’s mind scrambled to make some sense out of it all - why was Loki touching him in the first place? He could rip out the arc reactor, maybe, find out the real secret, but he had no reason to-

“An injury.” Loki guessed, green eyes flashing to meet Tony’s.

“Shrapnel.” He blurted out. “Trying to worm its way into my heart.” He tapped the arc reactor. “Keeps ‘em out.”

Loki nodded. Satisfied, his hands fell away from Tony as he leaned back against the table, and he reached back to reclaim his glass. Meanwhile, Tony just tried to ignore the pounding in his ears, forcing himself not to linger on the fact that he wanted nothing more than those cold hands to cool the fire festering in his chest.

“Your turn.” he managed, taking a long drink. It burned all the way down.

After a long pause, Loki finally relented.

“As I once said, magic can be threaded between two points in the universe. One location to the next or one item to another; the possibilities are numerous. And in some instances, rare instances, lives can be intertwined. Two souls. ”

Tony blinked once, twice, and thought there was no way he could be _that_ drunk. He decided to roll with it, but wasn’t about to ponder the scientific implications of souls being an actual, physical thing. Let alone the idea that they could be connected.

“Are you trying to tell me that soulma-”

“Destiny. Fate.” Loki interjected. “Let it be said that Thor and I are bound by the threads of fate to be at odds with one another, though our interests may sometimes align. I am destined to one day herald the end of Asgard. He is destined to defend it. No matter what we try or what we change, this will always be true.”

Tony opened his mouth to respond, faltered, and then just accepted the fact that he was a little bit lost.

“What are you trying to say?”

“That once our fates intertwined, Stark, and they remain so. The side effects of that magic are what you see now.” He leaned forward, his eyes a blazing emerald. “Do you believe such a thing could be true?”

Faced with a little too much information, stuck between believing and brushing it all away, Tony deflected with the first thing he could think of.

“If this is some wild attempt to hit on me, just get me drunk first.”

Loki blinked, slightly surprised, and then leaned back.

“You flatter yourself. Again.” Loki was looking straight at him, but Tony got the feeling that he was seeing straight through him. “Fraternizing with the enemy? Your Captain may faint at the thought.”

“What about all that talk of alliances?” 

“You would play a dangerous game, Stark.” The Trickster God gave him a sly smile, setting down his empty glass. “Think on it before next we meet.”

Loki glided out of the room then, leaving Tony to sit and think. He felt a faint sense of regret as the colors in the workshop dulled, but it was matched with relief.

However, when he woke in the middle of the night to the sound of footsteps, relief was forgotten. Loki’s weight fell beside him and he stilled, only half pretending to still be asleep.

“You feel the flame kindled in your chest, do you not?”

There were no colors to blaze in the darkness. There was only the faint wash of light from Tony’s arc reactor, which was smothered by the pillow against his breast. But he could feel the fire burning beneath it, the faint pull that had haunted him since the press conference so long ago. The memory of touch, of fighting together, of feeling so alive.

“There is nothing to be said for intimacy.” Loki continued, a hand brushing down Tony’s spine. “There is only want. There is only need. I _need,_ Stark.”

He felt lips on the back of his neck and he stilled. Then the hand on his spine moved around, down, and oh _shit._

Tony melted as the fire in his chest burned brighter, stronger, and the night devolved into sweat and heat. It was reckless, but it was hot, and _damn_ , yes, every touch quenched a thirst he hadn’t known he had. His mouth slipped down to sensitive parts - Tony wasn’t new to this game, this wasn’t his first rodeo - and fingers tangled in his hair. Loki moaned and Tony did the same against him, fingernails digging into skin. There were plenty of comments he could have made were his tongue not so busy, and before he knew it they were mouth to mouth again, their hands sliding over each other.

It was wrong. It was right. It was everything he wanted, everything he needed, damn the consequences.

Touches soon turned rough as a power struggle evolved, but Loki didn’t even seem to care when Tony managed to take the metaphorical reins. He just coughed a dry laugh into the pillow, challenging Tony outright to worship him. To prove his mettle against a God.

Words turned into moans again and the night became the rhythmic rocking of two bodies against each other, tangled in silk sheets. Tony thought he might have gone mad by the time climax came and went, but then Loki was on him again, and oh-  _oh,_ maybe he could go for another round.

Tony woke alone the next morning, but that wouldn't be their only night together. He didn't care about mystical threads and blood magic. This was fun, this was reckless, and he felt so fucking _alive_.

Saving Loki had been the most interesting thing he had done in years.


	7. Chapter 7

Once, thousands of years ago, Loki had come to the aid of a young boy. Where Odin and Hœnir had failed, Loki had risen victorious, slaying a giant who had sought to devour a child for his father’s faults. Loki’s Tale, they called it - the _Lokka Táttur._ It was one single shred of evidence in human history that painted Loki as more than a villain.

The boy’s name escaped him now, lost to the tides of time. But he was not forgotten.

The child had escaped the giant’s clutches and had remembered Loki for it. He had become a devout follower, the _only_ follower, and he had always called for Loki’s grace in times of struggle and doubt. There was never any need for Loki to appear to him in person as he once had, but he did listen. He watched the boy grow and when the mood hit him, he even guided the child in his path.

When a sickness felled the boy, who was not yet a young man, he called to his God one last time.

Loki attended his deathbed, knowing it was right to pay his respects to the only human who had ever called him a God. To others he was the trickster, mischief's hand, and he was not to be trusted. He lived in Thor’s shadow and fell to the wayside in the presence of all the other Æsir , but to this child, he was everything.

“What do you want of me?” Loki asked.

“Save me,” the child pleaded. “I don’t want to die.”

All lives had to end, he knew, but for this one Loki was willing to cheat death.

“I cannot save you in this life, but let me give you a thousand more.”

Magic wove two souls together on that night, giving the boy a new life every time he was extinguished. It was a cycle of reincarnation fueled by Loki’s power. So long as his God lived, the boy would never face true death.

Countless years passed on Earth, but Loki came to know almost every iteration of the boy’s young soul. The thread of magic between them made itself known in displays of color and heat whenever they met, and their bond strengthened the longer they stayed near. One’s pain would become the other’s. Thoughts and feeling might be shared.

Some would call them soulmates. Loki scoffed at the idea, but it was fitting. Their souls were drawn together, bound by magic and moving through realms and time. If two lives were to be destined for one another, it would be theirs.

Granted, the boy did not encounter him in every life. Their paths did not always intertwine, sometimes leading them even farther apart. But when they did cross, Loki always asked the same question:

_What do you want of me?_

Once, when the boy had been born a girl and grown into womanhood, she had wanted love.

From there, Loki’s single kindness had spiraled out of control.

Tony Stark was the newest life that the boy’s soul had been given. He had grown into Iron Man, who had stopped an intergalactic war just by existing. Who would, one day, have a gem’s power ravage his body. It would tear every weave of ancient magic asunder. He would become nothing - the boy would be gone. His world, however, would be saved.

It was after that that Loki took a golden gem from Thanos’ corpse and used it to his own purpose. An infinity stone, a soul gem - the time stone. He would slip into the past to know more about the last life of the boy’s soul, to know Tony Stark before they had met for the first time on the helicarrier.

The accusations of stalking that had once confused him became clear.

It was worth it. For every humorous moment he was able to see, for every burst of color and warmth of heart, he grew to know the man who had foolishly sacrificed himself for the betterment of the universe.

If they had been given more time, Loki fancied that they would have been able to grow beyond their uneasy alliance. That wasn’t to say their interactions had been few. Tony had utilized the rune he had been given, and Loki had made numerous appearances on Midgard in the time between the helicarrier and Thanos. They had fought together, schemed together, worked together.

They had even slept together, sometimes battling between the sheets, vying for dominance until one submitted under the other. Other times they touched simply because they craved the contact, wanting more than life gave them and falling into the night together.

But it was a game between them, not intimacy or love. It was all lies and truths, tricks and smirks.

That was what Loki preferred to think, at least, because that didn’t hurt quite as much.

When he finally knew it was time to leave the past behind, he rolled the time stone between his fingers and turned his back on Stark Tower for the final time. His chest had been hollowed where the pulse of ancient magic had once heated his skin, and he wondered if the flame would ever be rekindled again. The universe would certainly be a duller place without Tony Stark, and no others would follow after him.

Were there chance to have that color returned to his life, Loki was sure he’d burn the entire universe for it.

So he allowed himself one last indulgence, letting the powers of an infinity stone displace him in time once again. In a space of a heartbeat he shifted from one year to the one before, from one city to another. He stood outside another building emblazoned with Stark's name and took care to slip inside, his armor fading into the proper casual wear of this land with a single wash of green magic. He listened to the passersby and employees within to learn that Tony was holding a press conference, fresh off a plane after captivity.

It took him no time to glide by security and see this conference for himself.

“Yeah, okay. Yeah. The truth is…”

When he slipped inside that press room he realized exactly what moment he had stepped into, and the hollow in his chest was warmed for a final time.

“I am Iron Man.” Tony Stark revealed, and Loki gave him a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I had more time to work with this prompt and the story I created based off of it, I feel like it would have bloomed into something much larger and more complex. But I hope that you still enjoyed it in its brief form as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Thank you for reading (and I hope my prompter likes it!). Merry Christmas and happy holidays!


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